Mass Effect Challenges
by popehippo
Summary: Just my collection of 100-ish word drabbles, as inspired by the prompts of the lovely LiveJournal community, me challenge! No particular story, timeline or even canon Shepard in mind; just a bunch of little stories. T for a wide range of themes.


JULY 2010

**No Place Like Home**

"That is it?"

Tali nodded with her face cradled in her hands as she and the drell assassin sat together and idled through images of Rannoch in a moment of boredom. The photos were ancient, most in color but some in black and white, depicting the day to day lives of the quarian race before the Morning War.

"I look at them, and I know that most of these people are dead. All of these were taken just a year before the war." She didn't address the struggle with its proper name. For quarians, there was only ever one War. "Look at them. I see them, but it's just so... impossible to imagine that in less than two years, everyone in this photo was probably dead."

"A tragic fate," murmured Thane, slightly awestruck at the photos. Few such photos existed from the time of escape from Rakhana. The drell of that period had been far too busy trying to fill their starving bellies than dip into photography. The only holos he had seen of his people's former home had been of a dead, unwelcoming landscape that some considered too far gone to save. What had once been a cradle for his people's civilization had become its grave.

Tali said nothing, her expression blank beneath the ever-present mask. Then, she ran a finger through the holo. A quarian woman was in the background, laughing, her bare face turned up to the sun. Had she survived the war? Had she died violently, the life drained from her by cold geth hands? No one knew. But for that frozen moment, she was happy and free.

"Sometimes, I envy them. They died... but they got to feel the sun," whispered Tali'Zorah.

* * *

><p><strong>A crew member's childhood<strong>

Voices. There were always voices, in the creche. When you have ten brothers and two sisters, silence was an unheard thing enjoyed by other races. But where other children could find it frustrating or even annoying, the youngest of the young ones reveled in the challenge of it.

It meant he had to work harder at keeping his own thoughts from being drowned out.

"What are you doing, little brother?" asked his sister as she leaned over him. Mensiko was tall even for a female, which meant she easily towered over her youngest clutchmate, the runt of the litter.

"Reading."

"Oh? News? Gossip? Oh! Is it about the clan alliance between the Tyenki and the Menkee? I heard the Dalatress of the Menkee may be _infertile_, can you imagine-" She took a closer look at the pad. "Oh. Asari genetic defects. Mordin, why are you so _boring?_"

* * *

><p><span>SEPTEMBER 2010<span>

**Once upon a time...**

"So let me get this straight. A kid lies about these... what was the animal called again? Woof?"

"Wolf. Gotta let the 'L' run in the middle."

"Right, right. Anyway, this kid lies about the wolf, the town comes out, he says it ran away. He does this over and over and... the town never notices?"

"It's a children's story, Garrus. And... shit, I don't know, maybe he's a cute kid. People always believe the cute ones."

"Hm. And in the end, they realize he's lying, but when a _real_ wolf comes...?"

"He gets eaten!"

Garrus considers as Shepard waits. She knows what's coming. She just _knows_.

"Damn. And you tell these stories to your kids? No wonder you're all nuts."

_Augh._

* * *

><p><strong>Now Or Never<strong>

He'd faced down Reapers, Saren, mercs, gunships... and walked away from it all. Okay, sometimes hobbled... and often dragged away... but still.

Why was this possibly the most terrifying moment in his life?

Sweat dripped down, following the curves of his plates to tickle the skin along the way. Shepard was ahead of him, her back to him so she couldn't see, waiting at their table. It was their one year anniversary. He'd saved up, gotten them a nice table, complete with the exact same wine they'd shared on the first night. Hopefully, it'd be less awkward and filled with the possibility of one of them ending up in the med-bay.

Garrus swallowed hard and thumbed the little velvet box in his pocket.

Now or never.

* * *

><p><strong>Shepard finds SB intel on Kaidan or Ashley<strong>

Milo read through the files like a damn sneak, because that's exactly how he was acting. He really shouldn't have been getting into these. But damnable human curiousity kept him going, treading where basic manners dared not tread.

His heart stopped at the mention of a name, though.

_Journal Transcript_

_Last known text entry, 2183 for:_

_GUNNERY CHIEF WILLIAMS, ASHLEY_

_I think I love him._

_Why does that sound so weird to say? To type? It sounds right in my head, but when I put it down to real words... It's like I can't believe what I'm saying. I have a feeling I'm going to get in a mess of trouble for it, but last night was worth it. The way he touched me, wanted me. He saw me. Not the name or the history with it._

_And suddenly, I'm afraid. What if we lose him? What if *I* lose him? If he dies today, tomorrow, next week, I don't know what I'll do. He's not just our leader he's... I don't know what he is now. But he stands up and the world watches. I only hope I can keep helping him in the fight. He needs it. Oh god, he needs it._

_He doesn't think he's good enough. He says it's 'just a job'. Yeah, saving the galaxy from crazy flying machines is just a job! I just want to flatten him when he says that. I don't get how he can say anyone can do what he does, and then turn around and tell me that I'm so damn wonderful._

_We're approaching Virmire. Gotta go, diary._

_LOG: 16:37 PM_

Milo was quiet for a long time.

Then, gathering up the pads, he went out to distribute them to the people therein. He'd lie and say he hadn't read them. Better to lie than stir up a mess of fights long enough to reach the Citadel and back. Well, okay, maybe he'd tease Jack about the poetry thing. Maybe.

He kept one, though.

* * *

><p><strong>The color of your eyes<strong>

Huh.

Babies had always looked like potatoes to him. Little lumps of soft flesh that occasionally cried and pooped. And yet... the little bundle in his arms... was something so much more.

He glanced over to the mother laying still in her bed. Miranda's labor had been shorter than it could have been without the medical help, but she was still sore and tired. After such a difficult and planned pregnancy, so unexpected after being told she was infertile because of the genetic treatments of her childhood, she deserved the rest. Besides, it was probably the last private moment he'd have like this before Oriana swooped in and snatched up the baby.

Shepard smiled down at his newborn daughter and tickled her cheek. It must have tickled her; she jerked before opening those little eyes and stared up at him. Oh, he knew that stare. He got it from her mother often enough to recognize it.

"Hey, little thing. You've got your mama's eyes."

* * *

><p><strong>Liara meets her 'father'<strong>

"What'll it be, honey?"

Liara paused and stared into the face. She could see the resemblance, though with asari, that was a bit of a joke more than actual fact. But the curve of the crest they shared, her brow, even the chin a little. Yes. She could be related to this person.

"Um, a Nos Astra sunrise," she said, not sure what to ask for. She didn't usually like liquor.

"Comin' right up." The bartender ducked down and brought some glasses back up. There was clearly love for her craft as she carefully but swiftly measured out each ingredient before firmly shaking the bottle to create a swirling red and yellow drink that was still orbiting itself once it was in the tall thin glass. A 'martini' glass, Shepard had called it. What an odd shape.

"You know..." Liara looked up from the drink to the older woman. "You remind me of someone."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. My daughter."

Her heart clenched in fear. "Oh?"

Aethyta nodded and, taking up a rag, began to wipe down the bar. It seemed to be a habit; the sleek surface was already spotless. "Yeah. I haven't seen her in years. Never actually met her, though. Her mother and I had a... falling out when she was an infant. It's been decades since then. She's already an adult." The matriarch let out a sigh, tinged with regret and disappointment.

"You... you could always reach out to her?" offered Liara, praying she was the only one who heard the hope in her voice.

Brown eyes met blue. "And if she's angry with me? For not being there?"

"I..." Oh goddess. "I don't think she'd be angry. Maybe she just wants to start fresh. Maybe she could use a mother now. Maybe sh-she's already forgiven you."

The silence was long, long enough for the swirling drink to come to a still.

Then Matriarch Aethyta whispered, "Damn, girl, it took you long enough."

* * *

><p><strong>Shenanigans<strong>

"Hey. Hey Commander. Check this out."

Garrus dragged Shepard over to where the assassin sat at the bar. To his surprise, the drell was resting his head on his folded arms and staring out into the crowd with a focus Milo had only seen in a few other things. Like... guns. Or sharks. Maybe Grunt with a sandwich. "What's wrong with him?"

"Drunk. Maybe this shore leave was a bad-"

The turian was shushed as Milo took a seat next to him. Black eyes flicked towards him and then back away. Thane made no other motion to showing he'd recognized him.

"Hey, Krios."

"Mmm."

Milo grinned. Whiskey made his tongue loose and his grip on sanity even looser. "How would you kill Garrus, here?"

Garrus snorted a bit but lost the humor when Thane immediately replied, "Corner in main battery, grip arm, twist behind back to disable shooting hand, pin, neck snap, ventilation for escape." He hiccuped and went silent again.

Milo considered. "Legion."

"Set omni-tool to electronic pulse for quick disabling, four second pause to confirm system malfunction." Hiccup. "Neck snap if required to destroy visionary systems."

Oh christ. This was... why was this funny? "Me," Milo finally challenged.

Thane fell into silence, closing his dark eyelids. For a moment, Shepard thought he was asleep. Just as he started to get up he heard him mutter something.

"Bomb the ship."

Shepard giggled. Classic.

* * *

><p><strong>I knitted you a scarf<strong>

"Garrus. Stop fidgeting."

"I'm not."

Reaching up to his face, Shepard placed her hands over the sides of his face. He could feel his mandibles still fretting underneath her warm palms despite the restriction. Okay. So he was fidgeting. "I've never met your family before."

"Don't be! Mom and Dad are both in the Alliance, so you can talk to them about that sort of stuff. Jean, my cousin, is a cop too, and his wife Selene is a fire-fighter." She shrugged nonchalantly. "It's kind of a family thing, the whole hero shit."

"It's not that I don't think they'll relate to me. Just- That-" He paused, considering his words carefully. "What if they don't like that I'm... you know."

Solona arched one long eyebrow. "Boning me?"

"Jeez, when you say it like that, you make me sound like a dirty man."

"I like you better that way anyway. And it can't be half as awkward as when you introduced me to your sister."

He groaned. "Okay, I should have told you that you two _almost_ share a name, I get it-"

"There they are!" She waved an arm to the large group of people waiting for them at the end of the security clearance hall. A few elders, he noted, easy to recognize because their hair turned gray unless they colored it again, like an older turian touching up their fading clan markings. There were also a gaggle of children that immediately broke away from their parents to squeal and run up to Shepard. The commander let out a rare, loud laugh and scooped them up into her muscled arms.

Garrus held back, watching. Solona was so rarely open and talkative, but she immediately fell in with the large group of humans. They all shared her features, be it her eyes, her high forehead and smooth jawline. She looked so... at home. Closer to home.

"Hey, mister."

Garrus looked down to a child; a small girl who had strayed away from the gaggle of Shepards to stare up at him. "Yes?"

The young child, probably no more than fix or six he guessed, opened and closed her mouth a few times as she gaped up towards the alien being. She'd probably never been off of Earth before... was she afraid? "You're Aunti Sol's boyfriend?"

Auntie Sol? Heh. "Er... yes?"

The girl fixed him with the sort of laser-focused stare that children of all species seemed to be born with. And then, to his surprise, she grinned and held up a long length of knotted fabric. "My mommy made you a scarf! Come look!"

And before he could protest, she was dragging him to the group. When they caught sight of him, shouts of glee went up. "So this is the turian we keep hearing about!" "You're treating our chere good, right?" "Jean! Don't hassle the poor boy..." And behind the lot stood Solona, smiling happily at the sight of her family and her love.

Garrus sagged with relief. Not a bad start to meeting the Shepards.

* * *

><p><strong>A good book<strong>

Shepard had been whisked away to face... whatever he was off to face. For their range, she had taken Miranda and Thane. The rest were left behind to hold the line. Grunt gripped his shotgun tight as the Collectors pounded against the door, a thunderous heartbeat of hate echoing off of the ship walls.

His battlemaster was trusting him to protect his squadmates. He'd make her proud.

"But man is not made for defeat. A man can be destroyed but not defeated," he murmured to no one but himself, but he was heard.

"Hemingway?" The young krogan looked up to the human thief as she stared at him with what looked like surprise and amusement.

He nodded. "Just finished _Old Man and the Sea_."

"Nice. It's a good book."

The door shuddered.

"Don't forget, Grunt..." The human's teeth grinned wide, eyes barely hidden underneath her hood. "Once we have a war there is only one thing to do. It must be won. For defeat brings worse things than any that can ever happen in war."

Urdnot Grunt grinned. "Damn right."

* * *

><p><strong>Are you challenging me?<strong>

A voice roared at him and beat its balled fists on its plated chest. Urdnot Grunt turned around before a blow hit him in knee, tripping him before he caught himself on the concrete wall.

The two challengers stared each other down, foe against foe. Steely blue eyes stared back up at his own before he gathered up his breath. The attacker steeled itself as he hunkered down and let out a bellow that boomed through the old hallway, echoing forever off the walls until it could no longer be heard.

And to his amusement, his foe crumpled under the force of the roar, curling up in a protective ball to shield herself from harm. As children were wont to do.

"Heh. That'll learn you, runt," he snickered before he bent down to pick up his daughter. And he laughed when she bit his hand. This one had spirit! She'd live up to her namesake well.

"Come on, Shepard. Your mother's probably going to ripe both our hides off if we're late."

"Roar!"

"'Atta girl."

* * *

><p><strong>The space hamster goes for a ride<strong>

Shepard sat down hard on a crate.

The entire crew... gone. Kelly, Gardener, Chakwas... every damn life who had counted on her. And now the Collectors had them.

She was angry, she was pissed, and she was sure as hell getting them back. But even anger must subside, and guilt was left in its place. What if she had been here? Had she really needed to bring the whole team with her on the _Kodiak_? Would more lives have been lost, or would they have been saved? God, she hated it when she thought too mu-

_Bump._

Shepard jumped up to her feet, pistol drawn and focused down where something had thumped against her calf. She was prepared for a stray Collector, geth, maybe even Satan himself.

But it was just Boo in his Roll Around brand hamster ball. Propped up against her foot, he stared up at her with a curious look to his furry face. Shepard sighed and sat back down to scoop him up.

"Well... at least they didn't get you too, buddy," she murmured.

* * *

><p><strong>Drell babies<strong>

Shepard stared at the blue-green little infant in her arms, not sure what to think about it. There were little cute things; the pouty lips, the round head not yet carrying the characteristic curves and ridges of an adult drell, how tiny he felt in her arms. But then he'd yawn and she'd see teeth and a deep, primal part of her was shocked. Whoa.

"Spitting image," she murmured as the infant swung her finger around with surprising strength.

Kolyat beamed with pride. "Yensa's resting... but I wanted you to see him."

"Come up with a name yet?"

The young C-sec officer looked up from his son, eyebrows knitting together as a deeper emotion set in. "Yes."

She didn't even have to guess. Time healed all wounds, they said... "I'm sure he'll live up to it."

* * *

><p><strong>Down on my knees<strong>

It was raining. That was a bit of a stupid thing to say, though. It was _always_ raining. But this was a good old storm, nearly hurricane weather; she had locked up the windows and pulled in her potted plants in antcipation, leaving the house quiet and its air stale even as the winds wailed outside.

A knock sounded at the door.

She stared at it with interest. Who could it be? A small part of her logic stirred uneasily as she approached it; most of her family lived on the other side of the small city and certainly wouldn't be foolish enough to try and visit her in this weather. It could be a stranger. But, she considered, if it is a stranger they may be badly needing shelter...

When she opened the door, a man stood before her. A hood covered his head, lending shadows to his serious face as he stood in the alcove of her doorstep; the lines of his brown suit created channels for the rain to trail down his arms and chest, leaving him soaked. A brief rumble of thunderclouds behind him illuminated his dark eyes.

"Can I help you?"

"I..." And suddenly he was on his knees, bent at the waist with his hands on the ground and head bowed.

For a hard, silent moment she stared at the man. He looked as though he had lost all purpose, all confidence in the way of the world... like a man who needed a little help, really.

"Come in," said Irikah with a small sigh of worry, "it's miserable out here."

* * *

><p><strong>The Path and the Walker<strong>

"You! You are a sinner!"

Shepard turned his head up to the batarian standing over him from his box - boxes, why was it always boxes that prophets stood on, he wondered, what was this galactic religious obsession with standing on milk crates - with an accusing finger and upturned jowl.

"I smell the blood of innocents and guilty alike upon you!" shrieked the priest as the crowd turned as one to watch the human's reaction. Omega knew good street theatre, though this crowd was small, what with the low chance of someone dying. "You will be purged for your actions, lesser man, for your sins! Remove yourself from your path! You will burn as the forces of darkness reap your soul! Burn!"

Snorting, the commander kept on walking. "Soon as you get off yours, jackass."

"_BURN!_"

* * *

><p><strong>Solitude<strong>

A lesson in life: even among the crowds of dozens and hundreds, each person viewed themselves as alone. Though they breathed the air of every person who could, in at least some way or form, identify with them... though they shared the same needs for food, comfort, homes, friends and family... each person viewed themselves as alone.

Even justicars.

The bag that held her meager items hung slightly from her hand as she stood in the space port of Illium. It was a fitting end to her; where her adventure had begun, here is where it ended. She had said her goodbyes to the _Normandy's_ crew and to her fellow teammates. Perhaps it had been a selfish notion, but she had put off saying goodbye to Shepard until last. Closing her eyes, standing alone in the crowd, she thought back to what was now only a recent memory.

_"Leaving? Why?"_

_She glanced up to the commander, seeing the distress in the human's face. Even among a race so famed for their loose control on their emotions, Shepard seems particularly acute. At first she thought it a weakness; anyone could read the woman's face and know what she was thinking. But now she can see its a hearty weapon as well... at least it feels as such as she faces her leader down and feels the cold burn in her chest._

_"Yes. My oath to you has ended, as by the conditions of the Code. With Morinth dead and the Reapers defeated, I must return to my duties as a justicar."_

_Shepard nodded in understanding; she was not a foolish woman, she had to know this would end sooner or later. "Yes. I just- I suppose I wasn't ready for it."_

_"Are we ever ready for the parting of friends?" Samara offered._

_"I suppose not."_

Seeing the unspoken want to protest had been hard. The desire to say things, dramatic things, like 'please stay', 'don't leave me', maybe even 'then let me go with you'. But that would have hurt Samara as much as her, because she would be forced to reject her once more, and the asari knew that Shepard wouldn't put herself in the position to wound her again. So she had borne the brunt of it alone. For that, Samara admired her.

"In another life," she murmured and began to make her way to the taxi. The roar of the ship's engines firing behind her haunted her ears, as it bore her love away.

* * *

><p><strong>Snow<strong>

"Merry Christmas."

"Shepard!"

The human laughed and returned the tight hug and kisses, squeezing her tight once Liara had recovered from the unexpected entrance; Feron had been kind enough to let her in, but had given in to her request to let Shepard surprise her first. "Hey there, miss Broker. How's the fort holding up?"

"Not bad at all. The repairs are complete, the crew replaced."

"Fix that drone yet?"

"I doubt that will ever be done. But what brings you here?"

"I can't randomly stop in on my girlfriend from time to time," teased Shepard. "Besides, it's a holiday. I wanted to visit."

"Christmas?" Liara thought about it only a moment before it hit her. "Oh Goddess! I completely forgot. I am so sorry, I was so busy here, time just escapes you-"

Shepard shrugged, nonplussed. "Don't fret. I nearly forgot it myself; it's hard to remember sometimes when you're not Earthside to see the changes in weather, all the snow and such."

"I see... well..." She had travelled far, clearly just to be with her. Liara felt obligated to celebrate with her. And it would be a nice diversion from working. "Shall we deck the halls?"

* * *

><p><strong>"Are you really going to eat that?"<strong>

Kasumi sat down at the table with her prize; the little bowl let off happy curls of steam, the smell pouring into her senses. It wasn't her grandmother's recipe, but it was damn close.

"Are you really going to eat that?"

The thief looked up to see the krogan, paused in his path to stare at the bowl of noodles in front of her. "No, I made it because I thought it was pretty," she offered with a smirk. "Yes, I'm going to eat it, Grunt."

"Looks disgusting."

"What? No! It's delicious!" Picking up her chopsticks, she caught a few pieces and held it up for inspection before taking a bite. It was hard not to giggle when Grunt's nse scrunched up in distaste. "Want a bite?" she asked once her mouth wasn't full.

"Not for all the gold in China." He'd learned that one from Shepard, and was wearing it thin alreayd.

"Are you telling me you're afraid of a little bowl of wet noodles, Urdnot Grunt?"

His reaction was swift and immediate as he sat down hard into a seat and swiped up the bowl.

* * *

><p><strong>Fingertips<strong>

"Oh god. Stop. I'm begging you."

"Mmm?" queried Thane curiously, still delicately dragging his fingertips along her side. He could see the color of her eyes, peeking out of the corners of her view as she grinned at him from over her shoulder.

"Quit doing that. It's ticklish as hell."

"Ticklish? You?" It was amusing, he'd admit; the woman took down a thresher maw only just that day, but she was apparently easily crippled by pokes and prods against her ribs. In response, he smoothed out his digits against her skin, feeling her shiver at the touch.

"You torturer, Krios," she accused with a laugh that broke in the middle when his fingers teased her again.

"Knowing your anatomy is important. If I'm ever called on to dispose of you, it would make my job that much easier."

Her grin is infectious. "I can't think of a better way to die, sweet talker. C'mere."

* * *

><p><strong>Insomnia<strong>

Screaming.

Fire.

Desperation.

Capture.

No air.

Death.

Gleaming metal.

Screaming.

_Screaming._

"Can't sleep, Shepard?"

Shepard squeezed their eyes tight, the touch of their lover giving no comfort, the darkness behind their eyelids doing nothing against the haunted Prothean faces still wailing in the silence.

"Just insomnia."

* * *

><p><strong>Over the mountains<strong>

"I'm glad you could join me, Shepard."

"I'm honored to be here, Samara. When you told me about the ritual, I was curious..." Shepard took her seat, legs folding over each other as she sat beside the matriarch in the dark. The lights were all turned off, with only the window in front of them open to let in a meager amount of light. In front of her, Samara sat in her usual clothes, a blur of red on blue waiting calmly lin the shadows. "I don't want to intrude, though."

"Not at all... It's good to share with others, and I cannot complete the Prayer of Commitment without another. A justicar would be preferrable, but given the circumstances..."

Shepard watched as Samara lit a small match to ignite the wick of a candle sitting in a clay bowl and hoped she would remember the steps as the vid had shown. Taking a deep breath, she put her hands under the bowl along with Samara and lifted it up. It was surprisingly heavy and the flame wavered with her grip. But she held it steadily, staring up at the warm glow as Samara quietly began the ritual.

"We are those who seek to cross the desert, to reach the bottom of the sea, to walk over the mountains. For we are the justicar, they who are sworn to her service."

Shepard opened an eye to look over at her. The orange flame curdled shadows and light between them, flashing gold around Samara's neck and illuminating the curves of her face as it remained upturned to the candle. A shiver went through her. "To protect those who would wish the same journeys through life but lack the strength and wisdom," she murmured, closing her eyes again.

"This is our oath."

"This is our commitment."

"Our Code."

Shepard closed her eyes, but the colors still swirled behind her eyes, clear blue eyes in the center of it all. "Our Code."

* * *

><p><span>OCTOBER 2010<span>

**You clean up nice**

"You clean up nice."

Smoothing down the long black dress she'd gotten for party to celebrate Anderson's new job as Councilor, Zoey turned around to see Liara smirking at her. It was an adorable smirk... even when wrapped up in that usual asari oh-you-silly-people smugness. "And what's that mean?"

"This may be the first time I've ever seen you outside of your armor or uniform..." Walking up to Shepard, Liara smoothed a hand down her arm, as if touching it made it more real. "And when you're not in _those_, you're usually covered in grease from the Mako."

"Funny, you usually don't notice the grease when I'm not in uniform," said Zoey with a bright grin. The blush it brought to Liara's freckled cheeks was deeply pleasurable.

"Oh, you-" Liara paused, goggling at something Shepard hadn't noticed, before she sighed and turned Zoey's hand over. A black spot was smudged against her palm. "Ah. I knew it was too much to hope for."

* * *

><p><strong>I was drowning and you were dry land<strong>

Fuck it. Fuck it all.

The armor felt heavier than usual for some reason. Maybe it was the way the blood of the Shadow Broker's - no, the _former_ Shadow Broker's mercs - stuck between Solona's joints and fingers, the dry flakes breaking off as she walked. She probably should have reported straight to Chakwas, but...

She was just _so tired_.

The dorky little scientist she'd saved from her own mother was now the Shadow Broker. Ashley hated her guts. After helping Tali become accepted by the Fleet as an adult, she'd stood by and watched her be exiled for her father's sake. Mercenary Wrex was living like a goddamn king. Everything was just so... so... what? Confusing? It was like jumping into a whirlpool in the sea; she couldn't even begin to try and steer her way through, she just closed her eyes and hoped all the changed didn't go over her head.

Entering her room, she unbuckled and pulled off the armor when a sound caught her attention, just off in the corner of her couch. Approaching it, all too aware that she was down to her skivvies and way more vulnerable than acceptable, she turned the corner.

Garrus sat on the couch. Well, not so much sat as lounged, head rolling onto his shoulder as he lay back into the cushions and dozed. He'd been waiting, hadn't he? She had a feeling he'd been a bit miffed when she had taken Thane with her and Liara instead, leaving him to report to the _Normand_ about the situation. But... here he was.

"You're so damn reliable," she muttered and curled up to his side.

* * *

><p><strong>Coffee. Now.<strong>

The galley was silent.

Though the majority of the day crew was up, not one word was shared among them; the alien crew members sat among them at the breakfast table, quietly eating or drinking in the measured gestures of those waiting for the impending explosion. Cutlery clattered obscenely, coughs were just too loud, and everyone squirmed.

Shepard came out of the lift.

Eyes followed them as they made their way to Rupert's counter; the chef/janitor had long since gone AWOL from his station, for reasons of personal safety. The commander reached for a cup and stuck it under the nozzle of the coffee machine.

The crew waited, every eye watching every movement.

Their leader turned to grin at them, saluting with the mug. "Mornin'."

And as one, the team sagged with relief.

* * *

><p><span>DECEMBER 2010<span>

**Grunt vs. sweet potato cassarole**

"Grunt."

"Mrr."

"That was for everyone, you know."

"Yes, well-"

"I don't wanna hear it!"

"But Battlemaster-"

"No. You know what this means."

"I will _not_ be talked to like a hatchling-"

"No pumpkin pie."

"...What?"

"That's right."

"But..."

* * *

><p><strong>New Orleans is burning<strong>

"Hey. Sol." Bumping the door lock with his elbow to let him in, Garrus entered the commander's personal quarters, holding a cup of coffee for Shepard in one hand and a dextro-safe bagel for him in the other. The doors closed behind him while he blinked as his eyes adjusted; the bedroom was dark, the sole source of light coming from the laptop on Shepard's lap as she sat cross-legged on the bed. Her face was serious, which was not unusual... it was her usual expression, but there were little nuances he had picked up in the years that he had come to know her. Her forehead was knitted tightly in the space between her eyebrows as her eyes darted around, trying to see everything, and he could see her bunched up tenseness from a distance as he approached.

"Sol?" he asked quietly, setting the food items down and taking a seat next to her. Then the reason for her silence became quite clear; video after video of a city on Earth. Buildings that looked ancient, white and curved and old, crumbled and died. In another video, boats burned while still afloat, caught against the remains of those already sunk. And in every video, humans, running and screaming and crying. It took him a moment, but he recognized it; Solona had shown him pictures before of the city that her parents, grandparents, and who knew how many more ancestors had hailed from.

"I turned the sound off," she murmured, startling him from his focus on the imagery. "The screams got too loud."

"I'm a space brat," she murmured, staring up at the screens; the reds and yellows of the flames cast their colors across her skin like astral lights. "Only saw New Orleans a few times, haven't gone back since I became a Spectre. But... my parents' family... they're all... and the graves..." She shifted to look at him, eyes steeled against her own emotions. "All gone."

Garrus said nothing, only took her into his arms as she held tight onto him, finally turning her face away though the vids continued on. Closing his eyes against them, he buried his own face in her hair. Silence fell back into place. He couldn't say anything at all.

What was there to say?

* * *

><p><strong>Taste the rainbow<strong>

"Siha. Why do you frown?"

"Huh? Oh." Unaware she'd even been doing that, Shepard tried to force the expression away. "Er, sorry."

Following her eyesight to the drell they had rescued some time ago, now Liara's assistant as she continued on as the Shadow Broker, he asked with some curiosity, "Did Feron say something?"

"No, just..." Argh. Her face flushed a bit. "It's weird."

"Weird."

"Yes."

"Ah."

And he let the matter settle, because he knew it would leave her in one of two positions: suffer in silence or admit to whatever it was she was embarrassed about. And it usually turned out to be the latter-

"Dammit, all I want now are skittles!" hissed Shepard.

* * *

><p><span>FEBRUARY 2011<span>

**A crewmate's secret weakness**

There was a god!

Maybe being revived had left her in a state of craving, from all those months of being stuck in heaven only knew how many tubes and operating rooms... but Fiona hadn't realized just how much she had missed sugar.

It had been a bit of an odd surprise, finding her favorite ice cream in the fridge, but there it had been. She wondered how childish it would look if she stuck a note on it. 'Commanders Only', maybe. Then again, Jack would only steal it out of spite. Regardless, she nabbed the little pint and sat down at the table and had only just raised a full spoon to her mouth when someone took a seat in front of her. She glanced up.

"Morning, Thane."

"Good morning, commander." He paused and peered down at the creamy treat. "That doesn't appear to be the usual human breakfast."

Shepard chuckled. "Oh no, definitely not, more of a dessert but... well. I figure if we're heading into certain death, I'm awarded a bit of an excuse to eat ice cream at six in the morning." She offered the spoon to him. "And it's my favorite. Rocky road."

Thane stared at it pensively before taking the spoon from her hand. "Interesting."

"It's got marshmallows," she pointed out, as if that would entice him to eating it more, but she needn't have said anything as he carefully ate the spoonful, closing his eyes in a long moment of consideration of the flavor.

And after what seemed like forever, his full lips turned upwards into a smile. "Delicious."

* * *

><p><span>APRIL 2011<span>

**Horrible interspecies awkwardness**

"Well that was..."

"It was... certainly..."

"...Something."

"Ahem. Yes."

"..."

"...I apologize, siha."

"What? Why?"

"In hind sight, I think I should have warned you."

"Well, not to be mean, but... yes."

"Though perhaps you should have noted your chest's sensitivity."

"You should have asked before you pinched!"

"Noted."

Shepard laughed and drew her lover back under the sheets. "Okay, how about this. You stop puffing out your cheeks like a tree frog, and I won't scream next time you decide to explore the wild world of nipples."

Thane smiled slyly and reached for the light. "I can agree with that."

_Click._


End file.
